


Loki's Price

by ughiguess



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 17th Century, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Consensual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Historical Fantasy, Torture, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ughiguess/pseuds/ughiguess
Summary: In 17th century Scandinavia Elin Magnusdottir, an apothecary's daughter, has been accused of witchcraft. She's always been a bit of a skeptic about the local church even to the point of curiosity about older myths and legends. Seeing an opportunity, Loki isn't about to let one of his few remaining worshippers die but his aid always comes at a price.Please note the new E rating.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is basically finished and the editing is well underway. I tell you this because I'm aware I have a couple of stories posted that are not complete but I want you to know from the start that this isn't one of them. I know how frustrating it is when an author loses momentum on something I was really into reading. It's a compliment to have people interested in reading your work and I don't like to feel I've let anyone down, including myself. 
> 
> On a plot note, I'm not going to lie to you, it takes a long time for Loki to show up in this fic but I hope it's worth the set up. I have studied witch trials and the injustice is astounding, people would use it as an excuse to get back at others they thought had mistreated them for the dumbest things. It also makes me grateful to live in a country where the law is separate from religion, and I will always fight to keep it that way. I'll get off my soapbox now. I hope you enjoy it, let me know in the comments.

Elin stood on a cliff overlooking the fjord. She watched as the boats landed, watched as the men hauled them up the beach, watched as wives and daughters and young sons ran out to greet them. Somewhere down there was the answer to the question she had dreaded for nearly two months. That question, was the catch good, would likely decide her future. If the catch was good, they would eat for months, if not, there would be more hunger, more suspicion and more bitterness and misery all around. She felt terrible for silently hoping the catch would be mediocre at best. She didn't like starvation any more than anyone else but she had reason to wish the catch didn't go well.

If the holds of those boats were full of fish, Karl Andersson would likely come to ask for her hand. He'd implied it was likely and she hadn't known how to politely discourage him. He'd have enough wealth to offer her a good living and because men often suspect women want only comfort and riches when choosing a husband, he clearly believed she would say yes.

She watched the beach below, there was little activity. It seemed her hesitant, guilty prayers had been answered. A few crates were being unloaded onto a cart but not nearly as many as it would take to feed the village for several months. The men would try hunting next, even though the game was still skinny from the winter. She could hide up here no longer, her father would be worried if she didn't turn up at such an important event as the return of the fishermen. She sighed and began to make her way down to the village.

It was a steep climb, but it was one she had made a hundred times. Eventually the path led through the trees and switched back on itself as it meandered down the hill. Elin could see activity in the village as she neared it. People were slowly making their way back to their houses and shops, mostly looking downcast. If the catch had been good, it would need to be salted and stored, the work of several days, and everyone would still have been on the beach, packing it in barrels as fast as possible. She hoped it wasn't too little, a small catch would sometimes be made into stews or served at a feast to welcome the returning men, mostly to console them. A lot of ale would be drunk.

As she rounded the last switchback Elin heard voices down below, both she recognized. One was Karl and the other a girl about Elin's age, Lisbeta Nilsdottir. Lisbeta had never liked her and Elin returned her feelings. The girl was frivolous, always concerned with her appearance and never remotely interested in news from the outer world, in the innovations being made in the cities or the new worlds being discovered. Elin loved to hear the tales of merchants who brought goods from faraway places like Oslo, Copenhagen, and Amsterdam. A fur trader that had come a year or so back had the wildest tales of the peoples of the Americas. Elin had listened from the stairs as he and some of the other men from the village talked in her father's shop.

Lisbeta was chattering away at Karl, who answered occasionally, but it was in a voice too low for Elin to hear his responses. They didn't sound encouraging. She knew Lisbeta liked Karl, wanted him to marry her. She hated Elin for Karl's interest in her, though Elin had never encouraged him and would have been glad if he married Lisbeta, hopefully that way they would both leave her alone. She kept walking toward them. All she need do was pass. Now that the men were back she felt the weight lifted somewhat from her shoulders. After she passed him, their first awkward meeting would be over, and she could rest easy.

Finally she heard Lisbeta's voice get louder, more shrill, she was begging Karl to walk her back into town but he said he wished to walk in the woods. Elin took a deep breath and rounded the final curve where the trail flattened out. They hadn't seen her before but now they stopped talking, both their heads jerked toward Elin and Lisbeta glared at her.

"Elin! I was looking for you, I thought you might be up on the hill," said Karl with his usual predilection for stating the obvious.

"Hello Karl," said Elin. She would have to be careful, she must be polite but she hated to encourage him. "I'm sure we are all glad to see you and the men safely returned."

"Yes, I-"

"Karl! I want you to walk with me!" said Lisbeta pulling on his sleeve.

"Lisbeta, please. I really need to see Elin," he said, shaking her hand off his arm lightly, "I must speak to her on an important matter. I am sure your mother needs you at home."

Lisbeta pouted but glared at Elin again and turned back toward town, she stomped off down the path and Karl watched her go nearly as far as the village wall before he turned back to Elin, who stood silently waiting.

"I'm sorry about her," he began.

"You don't need to apologize for her, she’s always hated me. I don't mind it, I have better things to do than worry about what she thinks of me."

"You are wise, Elin," said Karl. He took a few steps nearer to her. She took a breath to try to speak but he cut her off. "That is why I wish for you to be my wife."

"What?" He’d surprised her. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

"I wish for you to be my wife," he repeated.

"No, I heard you. I just don't understand,” she said slowly. “I thought with the catch being so poor…"

"That I would not be in a position to ask?" he laughed a little, it was an irritating, patronizing laugh, as if she'd said something cute and naïve.

"That's not what I-“

"It is well, I know a wife is expensive," he said. "You know I have been planning to wed you for a long time."

"Well I haven't," she muttered. He must not have heard it.

"I have given your father much good business," he tried, a little sheepish now. She suspected it was an act.

"I hope you didn't do that expecting him to sell _me_ to you, too," she said. He laughed.

"You have always been funny, Elin," he smiled at her. "I know he is grateful. You should be grateful too."

"I am grateful for everyone in the village trusting in my father's wisdom and relying on him for their remedies,” she said as tactfully as possible. “But that does not mean I wish to marry them all."

"No." He said, "But I had thought you understood."

"I _have_ understood you, I have for months now," she said, trying to be gentle. "I am not trying to be unkind, I simply do not wish to marry you. I have tried to make you see that in all our conversations."

"I hoped you would change your mind."

She looked at him and felt a little bad, but not bad enough to marry the most boring man in town. "I'm sorry, but I haven't. Not all women are as fickle as the tides, Karl."

"I see," he said, stiffly. There was a long awkward silence. Karl began to pace.

"I suspect Lisbeta would like a visit from you," Elin said, trying to be encouraging.

"You have made it plain you have no interest in my plans to wed, I did not ask for your advice," he said, glaring in her direction. "I will delay you no more." He gestured her along the path towards town. This abruptness was very unlike him but Elin understood.

"Goodbye, Karl," she said as nicely as she could manage. She passed by him and headed toward the village. She did not hear his steps behind her. She dared to glance back and saw him leaning against a tree resting his chin in his hand, looking very glum. 

As she entered the village she spotted a group hovering around Lisbeta, they all looked in her direction as she passed but Elin ignored them, heading for home. If this many people were milling about the streets the work on the beach must already be done.

Her father’s apothecary shop was on the main street of town and their dwelling was above it. Her mother had died when Elin was about ten years old and she had no siblings, so she and her father shared the work of making remedies from herbs, different types of animal fats, the barks of certain trees, and many other useful natural sources. The work was fascinating for Elin, she loved the idea that there were things right under your nose that could harm or heal that most people just walked right by without even noticing. Of course, she could not sell remedies. _That_ work the villagers only trusted to a man, so Elin mostly worked in the back, hauling water and wood for the copper, preparing ingredients, drying herbs, and rendering fats. Oddly enough it had been her mother who had taught her father his business. Elin had only the happiest memories of her.

She came in by the shop entrance hoping to overhear some news and was not disappointed. There were two women chatting to her father as they looked over some soaps. By way of a greeting he raised his eyes and smiled and she smiled back. Knowing he would be with these two for a while she made for the stairs and as soon as she was out of sight, she stopped to listen. Apparently the men had gone father out than usual, hoping to find larger schools of herring. They had gone off course in a storm however and not known until it was too late that their supplies would not last if they chose to stay and fish rather than head back in. They had dropped their nets closer to home but predictably brought in fairly little. The waters around the coast were fished out this time of year, with everyone relying on that to see them through between sowing time and harvest. The men were to meet with the magistrates and other important men tonight and plan what was next, there was to be a small feast afterward to announce the news. The women turned their attention to the soaps again and Elin crept away to her room.

\-- 

That evening, Elin and her father Magnus Larson joined in the feast at the Guildhall in the center of town. A thick stew had been made of the catch and there was a little fresh bread and ale too. After the speeches of thanks and town announcements had been made, everyone started eating and the din of their conversation settled over the town square. It was the biggest space in town, tables had been set up for the nearly two hundred men, women and children who were in attendance, most of the village.

Elin and her father were sitting with the butcher from their street and his wife and daughter were further down. Elin liked her place at the end, even though it was colder at the edge of the square, it was quiet.

Or it was until there was some sort of small commotion. At the next table over, Karl Andersson was standing up, Lisbeta Nilsdottir standing close in front of him. Though not everyone had heard the slap, a lot of attention was on them. “I am sorry,” Karl was heard to say and after a moment conversation started back up again as Lisbeta stomped off toward some of her friends who were keeping warm by a fire.

"What do you think that was about?" asked Magnus, conspiratorially.

"I don't know exactly," replied Elin. "I wonder if he's turned her down?"

"That is rare to hear," said her father, chuckling. "The words ' _he_ turned _her_ down'."

Elin smiled. "Yes, I almost feel bad for him." They sat in silence for a moment.

"But then you would be a hypocrite," said her father, slowly. She turned to him, ready to be hurt. "I don't mean to sound cruel. But, you turned him down today didn't you?" he asked, gently.

"How did you know?"

"Several people told me they'd seen him head up the path into the hills and then seen you come down, alone, and he much later."

"Damn that path for being right where the whole town can see it," she said ruefully.

"It has its uses," he laughed. "Apparently Lisbeta was seen too, a little earlier, I doubted that to be true but then Rakel from the bakery said she'd seen her stomping into town in a huff...But you were still up the mountain then I think?"

He quirked a brow, asking silently for her explanation.

"Yes, and yes I did turn him down. He had to know that I would," she said, a little irritated. "I thought he wouldn't ask since the catch was so bad, I thought I was safe."

"My girl, you know I am not angry at you. I agree, you gave him no reason to hope," he said. "Besides, I am not so ready to be rid of you...I need your help in the shop." There was a sly tone in his voice as he said this.

"Is that all?" She asked.

"Well, I think so. Yes," He said. "That's all." He grinned.

She smacked his arm softly, smiling in spite of herself.

"Let's enjoy this stew and this ale while we can," he said, and they finished their meal, joining the others at their table in conversation about the upcoming hunting expedition the magistrates had sanctioned. Elin let the conversation buzz around her without really listening. She was thinking about something her father had said, that he'd doubted it upon hearing Lisbeta had been in the woods. Indeed, it had been strange to see Lisbeta there. She hated leaving the village and going into the wilds. In fact she'd selfishly stayed behind when the apples needed gathering last autumn and all the women went out to pick them for cider and for fattening up the pigs during the coming winter. Elin wondered what she'd been doing on the trail, perhaps she had followed Karl? But then there would have been no pretext for asking him to walk her back to town as Elin had heard her ask.

She tried to put it out of her mind and enjoy some time with her father. His knowledge of herbs and the land around the hills outside the village meant that if anyone could find game surviving on the last vegetation it would be him. The magistrates had asked him to accompany the hunting party and he had agreed. Elin dreaded him going since she would be all alone in the shop and house but he enjoyed hunting and rarely got to go so she'd held her tongue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a scene of torture, historically accurate torture.

The next morning before it was light out, all the young, strong men who had bows and any experience hunting gathered at the village gate to set off for the hills. Elin had said goodbye to her father before this, he insisted she stay at home to keep the shop open. She had faith that with her father’s help the men would return with game. He and her mother had both taught her much about where to find nourishment even in the dead of winter out in the wilds, animals would have this knowledge too. She had stayed up late the night before packing bags for his journey, making sure he had the tools he would need. She’d sharpened his best knife specially.

Business was slow all morning but she wondered if that might have to do with the amount of people still in bed after last night’s feast. They would come in later looking for cures for their heads and anything she could give them to settle their stomachs. She spent the time checking her stocks, most herbs were running low since spring was still on its way, so she started a list of the most urgent items to scout on her walks.

It was long past noon when she heard a commotion outside and looked up from her work. Strong, loud steps were coming down the street toward the shop. It sounded like at least five or six people. There was chattering too, and a girl’s high giggle. Suddenly they stopped outside her door and as she stepped around the counter to go out and see what was happening, it jerked open admitting one of the town bailiffs she didn’t know well.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Do not speak!” he shouted. Elin’s jaw dropped in surprise at the hatred in his voice. He stepped aside and gestured two more men in, younger ones, who held lengths of chain.

“What-“ she began, suddenly terrified. She was the only one here, those chains could only be meant for her. Her eyes widened at the bailiff.

“Chain this witch,” he ordered the men strictly. They started toward her and were too fast for her when she tried to dash behind the counter and into the workroom. She doubted she could have kept the door bolted long enough to make any difference but her head was spinning. The men caught her by both arms and as she struggled and angrily shouted at them to stop they forced her hands into the manacles and clamped them tight enough to cut into her skin. She was jerked around to face the bailiff again.

“You are Elin Magnusdottir?”

She nodded resentfully, wide eyed and breathing heavily.

“You are accused of witchcraft and are to be taken to the town hall cells to be held and tried.”

“Witchcraft? What are talking about?” she asked angrily. But the men had already started to pull her towards the door. They marched her through the streets toward the center of town. As they went, people came out of their houses, stopping and staring and whispering to each other. Elin looked around for help, for anyone she recognized among her father’s friends and customers. She spotted a few women she knew but could see they were too shocked to do anything. Elin could only hope not all their husbands and sons had gone off on the hunt, they could get one to come to the jail and help her. The troupe made one last turn and the guildhall and judges’ chambers came into view. Standing next to it were several magistrates, only one of whom her father knew well, unfortunately it was Anders Larson, Karl’s father. A smirking girl stood with one of the judges, a big man with small eyes who was leering at her, it was Lisbeta Nilsdottir.

Elin’s heart sank and her lungs clenched. Her step faltered and she was yanked forward up the rough steps into the cold stone building. They steered her to a room and pushed her inside so forcefully she only just barely stayed upright. Three men entered with her and when she turned around she could see Nils Jornson. He had with him Soren Erikson and Ulfred Rorikson, both town magistrates, neither very friendly with her family. They had such looks of hatred on their faces, all she could so was stand there almost rigid, trying to control her trembling.

"Elin Magnusdottir,” said magistrate Soren calmly but sternly, “You were seen atop the fjord when the ships went to sea and again yesterday when they returned practically empty."

"Yes,” she explained, “I often watch from there."

"So you do not deny cursing the ships so that the expedition would fail?" Nils Jornson interjected.

"What?” she said, confused. “Yes, I deny it! Why would I do that?"

"Because you are a malcontent. You are a harlot, and a witch!" he yelled.

"A witch?” she spluttered, angry now. “I am not a witch, there are no witches! And a harlot? Who with? I've never once been alone with a man of this village save my father."

"You are a harlot of Satan!" the judge snapped.

"This is ridiculous!” she pleaded. She turned to the other two, knowing her case with Nils Jornson was hopeless. “You've known me all my life, I am not a witch."

"Then why were you seen cursing the ships from the top of the fjord?" asked magistrate Ulfred.

"I wasn't cursing anything!" she said, incredulous. "I go up there often because the sight of the sea is so beautiful." 

"You go to be alone so you can make your curses where none can hear you!" Nils said with self-satisfied assurance.

Elin’s eyes narrowed. "So you're saying _someone_ heard me curse something?" she asked with intoned skepticism. He glared at her.

"You were observed," he said, vaguely.

"By who?" she challenged, looking to the other two men also.

"That is not for you to know," he snapped.

"I know who. Your daughter,” she said, matter of factly, glaring back at the judge. “It must have been Lisbeta, I saw her on my way down."

"Since you already know, yes, my daughter saw you."

She nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Judge, I am sorry to say it but your daughter is lying to you," Elin began, trying to sound calm and reasonable. "She hates me because though I told Karl Andersson I did not wish to be his wife, he still does not want her. We all saw it at the feast. It is no fault of mine!"

"How dare you say such a thing about my daughter? She is honest and sweet and a proper lady. _She_ is not seen about the hills with a bag of plants and a book!"

"I harvest herbs for my father's remedies! The remedies you buy!” she replied angrily. “Your daughter has the time to sit at home and do nothing and be proper. My father is not a judge, I must work if we are to survive."

"Silence! The impudence of you!" yelled magistrate Ulfred. "You were clearly not taught how to speak to your betters!”

"Yes I was, but he’s not one of them!" she snapped. She regretted it the second it left her mouth. It would not reflect well on her to be so rude. Her sharp tongue had gotten her into trouble before.

"You will regret your tone and your insolence, witch," said the magistrate. The men turned to go and a grubby man came in. "Put her in a cell,” Ulfred said to him. “We will have more from her later. And do not feed her, a witch gets no supper here."

Elin stared but said nothing, seething, she tried to shake of the grubby man’s hand on her shoulder but he just grabbed her chains and yanked her down the hall toward the back of the building. “I hope you enjoy your stay, girlie, I know I will,” he hissed into her ear. She cringed and struggled to keep up.

Her heart racing, she heard a heavy, metal door squeak as they neared and once through it she was pushed past two cells where several filthy men were imprisoned. Her jailer threw her into the third and this time she did fall, bruising her forearms as she tried to catch herself.

“In you go!” he said, not bothering to unchain her. He just slammed the door shut and walked off, laughing.

She righted herself as best she could and sat up on the hard stone floor. She heard the other prisoners jeering at her, asking her questions, rude questions. She tried to tune them out. Sitting with her head in her chained hands she tried to take deep breaths and calm down. When she didn’t respond the men quieted down after a while losing interest, and she could hear herself think.

The cell was larger than she had expected a jail cell to be, she could lay down easily on the floor, unfortunately the open space probably only made it feel colder than it already did. The stone walls offered no comfortable place to lean against. There was a scattering of straw on the floor but not enough to pull together for a cushion or any kind of warmth. She sat shivering, wondering how long she would sit here until they came for her again.

This was outrageous. It was clear now what had happened. Lisbeta had rushed to her rich, influential judge father and told him Elin was a witch just to spite her. Had she no shame? Had she no sense of right and wrong? Even a girl as ignorant of the outside world as Lisbeta knew what evil happened at witch trials, she was probably counting on it. Could she really be so cruel? What had Elin ever done to her to warrant this? Apart from a few witty cut downs over the years (never without provocation), she mostly tried to ignore her. What she had told the magistrates was true, she didn’t have time to stand around the village gossiping with the other girls, she’d been working since she was five years old and had gathered herbs for her father since she was old enough to leave the village on her own.

Elin sat thinking it through, wishing her father had not gone on the hunt. Her only hope was that someone had seen her being dragged through the streets and had sent a runner after the hunters. Even then, it would be difficult to know in which direction they had gone, it might take days to find them though they had only been gone since just before dawn. It would be dark in only a few hours.

Elin didn’t know how long she sat there, trying to think of something to do, something to say that might make them see reason. There was no way to prove someone hadn’t made a pact with the devil, it wasn’t as if the magistrates could ask him. Elin had always been a bit skeptical about the Christian faith, though she’d kept her thoughts to herself. She and her father attended church only as often as they were forced to by the law and social expectation but that was by no means every Sunday. They were busy with the shop which most people understood, knowing that Elin’s mother had died and they could not afford to keep an apprentice with the cost of room and board. Unfortunately it also meant that Elin didn’t have time to make many friends and right now she could really use an ally.

It was probably nearing dusk when she heard the metal door down the hall shriek open again. The same grungy man came to her door to escort her to the magistrates. She shuddered when his hands touched her body, unnecessarily in her opinion, he didn’t seem like the kind of man who got offered a lot of consensual groping rights. It became clear as they walked that she wasn’t being led back to the room at the front of the town hall. He was taking her downward. She had to slow down to negotiate a stone staircase in the low light. They came to a wooden door with a small window in it, there were iron bars crossing over it in the form of a little cage. The door swung open and she was thrust inside and the door was slammed behind her.

Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light, her blood ran cold. It was a torture room. There was no other explanation. There was a narrow wooden table about the width of a grown man. On the shelves there were some devices she couldn’t quite see and was glad of it. There were ropes and strange wooden levers, chains, and a fire was banked in a grate in one corner with fire irons hanging along the wall beside it.

It was probably for the better that her torturers entered only about a minute later, she hadn’t had time to start really imagining the horrific things that might be done in this room. Nils Jornson was back with Ulfred Rorikson but this time they were followed by Father Halden, the village priest. His presence didn't comfort her. He was not a particularly devout man, as Elin happened to know having spotted him at a feast a few years ago with a dairy maid behind the guildhall. He had looked on her with disapproval and suspicion every time she’d entered the church ever since.

Before any of them could speak, Elin started her case, “Wait. You have to wait until my father comes back from the hunt. You can’t do this until he is here to defend me!”

“Even if he were here he could not defend you,” said Nils fiercely. "You should not have called my daughter a liar."

"But she-"

“Silence! We will only hear your words if they are a confession,” said Father Halden, unexpectedly. She glared at him. “Confess that you are a witch and it will be easier for you,” said the priest with false kindness.

“I’m not a witch,” she stated plainly.

“Yes you are! Confess it!” he said, turning nasty.

“What is the point of this? All you want me to say is yes,” Elin averred. "If I say no you keep torturing me until I say yes and if I say yes, you burn me at the stake. You don't want to hear a no whether it's true or not! How is that justice? How do you know someone told the truth just because they said yes? You've already decided I'm a witch! There's no way I can prove I'm not, just like there's no way you can prove I am!”

“Then god will judge you. The flames will decide!” growled Father Halden.

“I am made of flesh, the fire would burn me just as it would burn you, witch or not!”

“So you do not trust the wisdom of god to uncover witches?” asked the magistrate.

“I trust my own eyes!”

“You are nothing but a heathen!” shouted the priest.

“If you do not wish to confess be silent. We will have no more of your harpy’s tongue,” said magistrate Ulfred.

“There are no witches!” she yelled angrily.

“No witches!” shouted the priest, coming close to her face. “It is blasphemy to deny the existence of witches! There are witches all around,” he snarled at her. “Tell the people of Vardo there are no witches! They burned eighteen mere months ago. Tell the people of Kalmar, whose flocks perished when an old crone cursed the town. The Witchfinder General hanged five and beheaded three more.”

“None of that has anything to do with me! I am not a witch."

“It is clear that she will not confess,” said Nils, striding over to the shelves and bring back a wooden box with something metal on top of it. Elin’s breath quickened. He shoved it into the magistrate’s hand and came to grab her. As she fought he dragged her toward the table ignoring her protests. He held her from behind while she struggled and the magistrate and priest drew closer. Ulfred set the device on the table.

“What is that? What are going to do?” she asked in horror, and struggling against the judge's weight.

Nils forced her to bend over and slammed her arms onto the table, he held them, still shackled together, while the magistrate fit the wooden box around her fingers.

“Stop!” she yelled, panicking.

“You gather herbs with these hands do you not?” he asked. He reached over and did something to the metal on the box, she began to feel pressure on her fingers.

“Yes! Please, stop this!” she begged. She was shaking all over, her ears were ringing, the fear was overwhelming.

“The hands of a witch! We have all seen her out in the hills!” Nils growled. "Do it!"

“No! I’m only working for my father!” she shrieked as the wood tightened, crushing her hands. The pain seared up her arms and she pulled as hard as she could trying to get away but the judge had hold of her to strongly.

“You are gathering evil charms for your spells!” accused the priest. “You will gather no more!” The pain was unbearable, she was crying and it seemed like it would never end. “Confess!” he yelled, right into her ear. She fought against the judge’s grip but it was useless, the pain was too much.

"NO!" she shouted, but it didn't end. They didn't let up and all she could hear was the continued screams of the priest calling her a liar and heathen and a whore. All she could feel was the smothering presence of the judge surrounding her, could smell his sweat which made her stomach turn. "Stop!" she begged them.

"Do you confess?" shouted the magistrate.

"I'm not a witch!" she cried, in too much pain now to try to hide her tears.

"Break her hands," ordered the priest.

The magistrate turned the screw again and Elin felt the sickening crunch in her fingers, she nearly vomited from the pain. Finally her knees gave beneath her and she passed out before she could even feel the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Elin woke in her cell, the ache in her hands almost unbearable but at least the chains had been removed. At least six of her fingers were broken, they were bruised and bleeding. Cradling them together in her lap, she hung her head and allowed the tears to fall. It must have been past supper time and it was dark in the cell. There was a single tallow candle burning in the hall past the next cell. No one would see her crying in the darkness. Or so she assumed.

"I imagine that hurts," said a smooth, sympathetic voice.

She gasped and her head snapped up in its direction. There was a man in her cell, wearing all black, she thought, it was too dark to really be sure. Silhouetted against the iron bars, he seemed strongly built. He was leaning casually, far enough away not to spook her too badly, but his being there was shocking enough.

"Who are you?” she asked, her breathing shallow with her sudden fear. “Have you been in here this whole time? Where did you come from?" He smiled at her many panicked questions, but only answered one of them, and that only vaguely.

"I come from a place where witchcraft is tolerated, if not celebrated," he said.

"I'm not a witch!" she said, quickly.

"I know," said the stranger with a small laugh. "That’s why I'm here."

"I don’t understand. You know I'm not a witch? Then tell them that, they're going to burn me at the stake!"

"My dear, you are far too beautiful to burn as a witch," he said, apparently amused. He took a few slow steps closer and towered over her briefly then crouched to her level. Now he had moved from in front of the light she could see he was pleasing to look on, with long black hair, but he did not have the same type of features as the people of her village, too fine and sharp. As she examined him, he examined her. Finally he said softly, "To burn with passion as my lover however, that's a different prospect entirely."

She gasped again and tried to back away, shifting herself closer to the far wall and huddling down. "How dare you! I'm not a whore either," she said, angry now. "If you're some rich man offering to bribe my freedom and take me as your mistress-"

"That's pretty much exactly what I'm doing."

He'd stunned her into silence, she had been being sarcastic.

"Only I don't intend to _buy_ your freedom," he continued. "I intend to _take_ it."

"You're going to break me out of here in the dark of night?" she asked skeptically.

"No, nothing so furtive. I want them to know exactly where you've gone and with whom." As he said this, he made an evil smirk that did nothing to diminish his good looks, if anything it made him even more devastatingly attractive.

She was completely confused. It was the oddest conversation she'd ever had, her skin was buzzing with anticipation.

"I think you'd better explain yourself, and start with how you got in here. And I've never seen you before, so you can't be from this village, who are you?"

"You know who I am," he said. "You prayed to me, well, to some of my compatriots, as a child."

Now she was scared. Her jaw slacked as she stared at him in astonishment. How could he know that she'd once prayed to the old gods? She had put it out of her mind years ago, it had been too painful to think about. He'd said the word _me_. And what did he mean, his compatriots? Of the old gods, the only one she had never begged that day had been Loki, the god of Lies and Mischief, it hadn't seemed like a good idea. Her heart dropped and her stomach flipped. There was no way it could be him, could it? It was preposterous!

"I hope you've guessed my name," he said, watching the expression on her face.

"This isn't real," she said firmly, shaking her head. "I'm in a lot of pain, I must be seeing things. I’m having a fever dream."

"I assure you I am real, and you are wide awake," he said. She scoffed as he continued. "Now, about this becoming my mistress, there is always a price for my favors. Do you consent?"

"Why not? This isn't really happening," she said, laughing.

"I suspect you are being flippant," he said, sounding annoyed. "You should know that if you say yes, I will have your maidenhead. You will share my bed, for as long as I like, but when I tire of you, I will give you means by which to live, though you will have to do so far from this place. You will never see your family again."

"You're serious?" she asked, thinking none of this could possibly be happening. "I don't believe this. You're crazy."

"Then how did I get in here? I don't have a key," he said reasonably, showing her his empty palms.

"Someone let you in… As a joke, to taunt me…" She thought for a moment, "Or maybe you were sent in here to try to get me to agree to this because they think it'll prove I'm a witch, that I was willing to make a pact with a pagan god."

"You require proof, I understand," he said, he came nearer and sat down cross legged in front of her, their knees barely touching. "I am not the god of Father Halden, requiring faith alone and never showing himself, never granting your prayers." He reached out to her hands and she allowed him to take them gently into his, they were so warm, large, and strong. She felt no pain and started to marvel at this but he continued speaking.

"You once prayed to my kind and I am grateful. Precious few do these days and even then only in secret. I am not willing to desert a worshipper."

"I wasn't serious," she whispered. "I didn't actually think any gods were going to bring my mother back that day. I didn't actually believe in them."

"Then how did I hear your prayer? How do I know these things you've never said aloud, never told a single living soul?" He asked, gently rubbing her joints.

"I don't know," she whispered, it was all so confusing. She tried to think back to that day.

"In your heart you believed," he continued, softly. "You lay on the earth in that grove, your tears mingling with the rain on your face. You heard the sounds of the trees and it reminded you of an old story, about the great tree, Yggdrasil. You wanted so badly for your mother to have found herself in Valhalla, where there is eternal feasting. It comforted you and you have always remembered it and thanked us for it."

"How do you know that?" she whispered desperately, her wide eyes imploring his.

"You'd have given anything then. Will you give anything now, to save yourself?" he asked, his voice seductive now. "Or do you want these hypocrite judges and venal priests to humiliate you and put you to death because you dared to refuse a man you could not stand the sight of? Will you allow that selfish, spiteful, ignorant girl to revenge herself on you for something that wasn't your fault?"

She was silent, trying to think. But his voice was so nice in her ears, so persuasive.

"You require time, it is only fair to give you tonight to think it over…I suspect I will see you again, for now, sleep well."

"Wait," she said quickly, "How will you know what I decide?"

"The same way I know everything about you. Do not fret about that."

She watched as he gently let go of her hands and stood. She stared at them trying to figure out why the pain was gone, how the joints were back where they belonged, she'd felt nothing but his skin, rubbing hers. By the time she'd looked back he was gone. She had been so scared of being tortured and burned, now she sat there trembling with a different type of fear altogether.

\--

Elin lay on the cold stone floor of her cell shivering, trying to get some sleep. Loki could have at least left her his beautiful black cloak, she thought irreverently. She still hadn’t decided whether the meeting had actually taken place at all or if it had only happened inside her head. No matter how she tried to convince herself, her fingers remained unbroken, undeniable proof that something had taken place. He had said there was a price for his favors, would he ask a price for healing them even if she said no, or had that been enticement?

Maybe the priests were right and the Devil was real and whoever this was in the form of the ancient Norse Loki had come to tempt her into his service. This struck her as even crazier than the idea of Loki existing. Why would the devil want her service anyway? Wasn’t he powerful enough to do whatever he wanted without her help?

Deity or not, this stranger who called himself Loki had offered her help. Could she say yes? Would she be buying his services with her virtue? But then after all, what good was her maidenhead if she were dead anyway? Everyone suggested it was a valuable commodity and Loki himself had mentioned it. She'd never thought it might save her life, though she doubted a god with Loki's reputation would have cared much whether she was 'in tact'.

It was clear from their questions and their dismissal of her arguments that the magistrates were not going to believe her no matter how many times she denied being a witch. The longer she lay there shivering the more the reality sank into her bones with the cold. To be accused of witchcraft was practically a death sentence. Without allies, her father gone, she had no hope of clearing her own name.

Her real crime had been to humiliate Lisbeta Nilsdottir, and Lisbeta was going to get her revenge. Elin suddenly hated her. She never really had before because she just hadn’t had the time to give her enough thought to hate her. She hadn’t understood just how selfish and cruel the girl really was and even in her hatred she decided she also pitied the girl, whose world was so small and who had such little fortitude that she couldn’t withstand a single disappointment. Elin allowed herself to imagine the look on Lisbeta’s face when Loki prevented her execution.

This happy fantasy was interrupted by the screech of the door in the hall. She lay silently listening, there were slow heavy footsteps, grumbling from the men in the other cells and finally the steps stopped outside her door. She was petrified, praying to be left alone (nothing good could be about to happen this far past midnight but so long before dawn), and realized she was praying to Loki.

The hairs raised on the back of her neck and gooseflesh formed on her whole body when she heard the key clank in the lock on her cell door. It swung open slowly and she looked up into the face of Nils Jornson, who was leering at her with a big smile on his fat face.

“You really shouldn’t have accused my daughter of lying,” he whispered, sternly.

“You’ve said that before,” she said, out loud, hoping to wake the other prisoners. That way, at least there would be witnesses. She sat up and shifted back toward the wall. "Where are the others? Where is the priest?"

He just laughed. "I don't need them here if I wish to see you," he said, a little louder, settling in. Shutting the door behind him, locking it and coming nearer.

"Actually you do. You need two others to witness a confession," she said firmly.

"I'm not here for a confession," he smirked.

She shuddered, her breath quickening.

"You are clever, for a girl. Smarter than my Lisbeta, I admit, but it won't do you any good in this cell."

"When my father returns-"

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because the pain in her cheek was sudden and strong. He had slapped her, hard, across the face. She reeled, her brain in total confusion. She held up her hands, trying to protect herself but by now he had knelt down in front of her, practically on top of her. He was pulling her by the legs, away from the wall, flat on the floor. She fought him, shouting for him to stop, for someone to help her.

“Don’t fight me, harlot. Let’s have a look at you,” he leered. She kept fighting but he managed to get a knee on her belly, pinning her to the floor. She thrashed as he tried to covered her mouth with his free hand and snarled at her, "Your father is off for weeks with the hunters. Who is going to help you?" She looked in his eyes and saw hatred and vile intention but no mercy in them. She steeled her nerves and reached out to the ether with everything in her soul as she glared right back and whispered, “Loki.”


	4. Chapter 4

“What?” said Nils, irritated and confused. Then his whole body jumped and his head jerked up to meet the gaze of a tall, strange man, clad all in black who had appeared next to Elin’s shoulder and was glaring down at him from on high.

"I wouldn't recommend doing that,” Loki was saying, “I mean, I'm sure that pleasures of the flesh would be most enjoyable, with this one in particular, but I can't answer as to whether it will be worth it for the pain I will inflict upon you if you do."

“Who the-”

The judge didn’t get the chance to finish his question because Loki had viciously kicked him in the chest so hard it knocked the wind out of him and flipped him completely off Elin and onto his back. As he lay coughing and choking, Loki crouched down to Elin’s side. He placed a hand on her bruised cheek and asked, "I told you I would know when you’d made your decision. Was that a yes?"

The relieved tears that poured into his palm were his answer. "I think you’re going to be very pleased with your choice," he said, smiling widely. His hand left her and he stood again, stepping over to loom above the Judge, who was trying to speak.

"How did you get in here?" he coughed.

"That doesn’t really matter at this point does it?" Loki said in a pitying tone.

"Who are you?" the judge demanded, hoarsely.

"Someone you really shouldn’t cross," he replied.

"You will answer me! _I_ am a _judge_!"

" _I_ am unimpressed!" said Loki, brightly. “But I will play along. I am a party interested in the welfare of this young woman."

“This little bitch is on trial for witchcraft,” said the judge, struggling to stand up. To Elin’s surprise, Loki let him. Not that it made much difference, as far as intimidation tactics went, given that he was about a head shorter than Loki. This clearly came as a surprise to Nils Jornson as well, who retreated several paces when he realized it, amusing Loki. He backed into the wall of the cell but Loki made no move towards him.

“As I understand it, you and your daughter are her primary accusers,” Loki began. “Is that correct?”

“Yes. She is a witch, she cursed our fishermen! She wanted the whole village to starve!”

“I’m not here to get into the details of your obviously concocted story,” said Loki, sounding bored. “I’m here to offer you a chance to save yourself some embarrassment, and likely a lot of pain, by letting her go.” 

“I don’t know who you are, or how you got in here, but I don’t answer to you!” Nils yelled.

“You answered to my boot in your chest,” Loki smiled, cruelly. “As for how I got in here, I repeat, it doesn’t matter. What matters is my offer: you have until morning to decide to recant your story and keep what dignity you have, if you insist on trying this woman as a witch…" he trailed off with an evil smirk.

“What?” huffed Nils.

“I’ll let your imagination supply the rest, though I doubt you have a _hundredth_ of the imagination I have for brutality and gore,” said Loki coldly. “And now you will leave this cell and rid this innocent woman of your despicable presence.”

Nils paled a little, he was still out of breath and clutching his chest. He felt his pocket and realized the keys were still in it. Loki watched the fear come over the judge’s face and allowed a tiny smile to curve his lips. “You know, I’ve heard that your priests tell you to be kind to strangers, that you may find yourself entertaining angels in disguise,” he said, quietly. “My priests say the same thing, lest you find yourself insulting demons.”

The judge fumbled with the key, reluctant to take his eye off Loki. He opened the door and Loki waved him out, following behind. He waited while Nils locked the cell watching Elin and then spoke again.

“Such a beautiful face,” he said, making Nils look inside the cell at her. Loki continued, “If I find this girl assaulted in the morning I shall be very displeased.” With that he turned and walked past the judge, who had just noticed Elin’s now unblemished face, his brows furrowed in surprise but by the time he turned back to question him, Loki was gone. There had been no screech of the metal door, no sound at all. He glared at Elin, who glared back from her place sitting on the floor. She breathed a sigh of great relief when he stalked off angrily, slamming the outer hall door so hard that it shook the cells.

There wasn’t a sound for the rest of the night, but Elin could have sworn the air felt warmer, the floor softer, and the pain in her face was entirely gone.

\--

As the first light crept through the slit that served as a window in her cell, Elin stood to gaze out. All she could see was the back of another stone building. She sighed, at this point she’d come to terms with everything else that had happened, now the worse part of being in this cell was the boredom.

“Not doubting your choice are you?” said a now familiar voice from behind her.

She turned and gave Loki a shy smile. “No.”

“Good,” he said smirking, “Even if that vile judge and his pathetic daughter have recanted and everything is forgiven, your father, kind though he is, would never allow you to use your skills again for fear he’d really lose you. All that’s left for you here is marriage to some dull townsman to discourage any lingering suspicion. It will be a drab life, I promise…And,” he said, coming closer to her, his eyes not leaving hers, “None of these self-righteous brutes can show you the kind of pleasure I can."

Elin blushed. She’d had interest from men before, but all of them had gone through her father and never been alone with her. Even Karl had never addressed her so blatantly and he had been the most forward.

“Do you believe me?” asked Loki, stepping right up to her so that Elin’s face was nearly level with his chest. It didn’t feel threatening, but it was exciting her very blood.

“Yes,” she said quickly. He reached out and wrapped a hand around her lower back. She drew in a sharp breath in surprise at its warmth.

“Still, I think I should show you. May I?” he asked. She didn’t quite know what he intended, but nodded anyway. She needn’t have worried. Loki gently steadied her jaw in the palm of his hand and lowered his lips to meet hers. She didn’t know what to do but when his mouth started to move over hers, she quickly realized why people couldn’t seem to get enough of this. His lips were soft but insistent, gently locked to hers for a few moments. It felt so good that when he let go she tried to follow but he stopped her.

“I’m sorry that we don’t have time for more right now,” he murmured. Releasing her, he took a step back and spoke more loudly, “Now, let us talk about what will happen this morning. You are under my protection from this time on. At no point will I allow these men to harm you. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Thank you,” she added quickly. A little of her nervousness had come back now that they were talking about harm.

“And don’t look like that,” he scolded her, though not harshly. “I don’t want them to see you scared. I want these pious fools to finally see faith being rewarded,” he smiled at the irony and she did too. “They will want to burn you, I will not let them get that far. I’ll be in the crowd but you won’t see me. Alright?”

Elin nodded.

“You are mine to protect now, I take care of what’s mine.”

“Thank you,” whispered Elin. Loki’s eyes danced as he smiled.

“You’ll thank me later when-”

The shrieking of the metal door at the end of the hall cut Loki off. It was probably her captors coming to take her to the square. “That’s them. Soon these indignities will end. Don’t be afraid,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’ll see you out there,” he smirked and vanished from existence before her eyes. Elin gasped but didn’t have time to ponder what she’d seen. Someone was coming down the hall. To her surprise it was a woman, older and drably dressed. She carried a bundle of wrinkled fabric and hoisted it over one arm as she unlocked the cell. She looked stern as she thrust the bundle at Elin.

“You will wear this,” she said.

“Why?”

“Do not question the court,” she answered. “This is how it is done. You will be examined for witch’s marks, for signs of the devil’s afflictions on your skin.”

“I’m not afflicted with anything,” Elin started.

“I do not have time to hear your lies,” the woman said, cutting her off. “You will wear this or you will go naked in your shame before the magistrates.” Elin glared at her. The woman just smiled and added, “Quite a few townspeople have started to gather as well, I’m sure they would enjoy the sight.”

Elin huffed and grabbed the bundle. The woman stood there, obviously not intending to leave. She raised an eyebrow, waiting. Elin began to undress. She covered her modesty as best she could, never having had anyone see her unclothed. When she was done donning the rough shift and tying up the collar as tight as she could the woman grabbed her clothes from the floor and turned to go.

“Don’t I get shoes?” asked Elin. It was in vain as it turned out. The woman simply let herself out of the cell and left without a word.

\--

Elin had waited in her cell for the next two or so hours, much colder now she was wearing only a thin shift dress and no shoes. She started to hear activity in the streets outside and the jailer came for her with a huge grin on his ugly face. Naturally he touched her as often as possible as he chained her hands again and pushed her down the hall and into the little room where she had been first taken yesterday.

She was locked in alone so she went to the window which looked out onto the sunlit town square. Only two nights ago she had sat there with her father enjoying the company of these people who were now arriving to watch her be humiliated and killed. In fact it was rather a lot of people, about half the town Elin reckoned. Men were finishing setting up some sort of stage and wood was being brought to the fire pit in which a large pole had been erected. They’d been busy, clearly someone had insisted on her being burnt as quickly as possible. That only settled it in her mind, they had no intention of taking mercy on her. If, or rather when, the verdict was announced to be guilty, she’d be burned for sure.

That was why at this point it was so fortunate that Elin knew none of it was going to happen. Loki had assured her of her escape and by now she’d seen enough of his little miracles to suspect he had a lot more up his sleeve. Still, she wasn’t looking forward to what was about to happen, standing in front of all those people, being accused of something that wasn’t even a crime at all let alone a crime she’d committed.

The jailer returned, jerking the door open and coming inside. “They’re ready for you girlie. Too bad you’re going to be a pile of ashes so soon. I wish you could stay, at least one more night,” he said, ogling her openly.

“I’d rather be a pile of ashes,” she assured him with a scowl. He responded by grasping her chains and yanking her out into the hall. She could hear the bailiff quieting the crowd as they neared the Town hall doorway.

Out in the square the bailiff was calling the trial to start. “Today we try a suspected witch,” he was saying. “I call our three esteemed judges to preside and it has been decided that Father Halden will advise as it is a deeply religious crime that threatens the very soul of our village!”

The magistrates filed up the wooden steps to the stage and sat themselves in four chairs that had been placed there. Once they were settled, the bailiff continued.

“I call the accused, Elin Magnusdottir,” he said, forcefully. 

This was it, Elin was shoved out onto the stone steps and down into the square, it wasn’t a long walk to the stage but despite Loki’s help the night before, she was exhausted and couldn’t get her footing on rough streets. She was pushed through the square by the jailer through the crowd of people who gathered around her on all sides, all jostling to get a good view. When she got to the stage, she was marched up onto it and made to stand in front of a row of four men, the two magistrates from yesterday, Ulfred and Soren, the priest Father Halden, and of course Nils Jornson wearing his judicial robes. Elin know Lisbeta would not be far away, she scanned quickly and of course, she was there with several of the other girls who fawned on her; wearing what was probably her best day dress, an eyecatching red that contrasted with her long blond hair. Elin rolled her eyes.

Magistrate Ulfred stood, he must have been put in charge because he dismissed the bailiff to the side of the stage. He turned to Elin and gruffly said, “Face the crowd.” She glared at him but did so.

“Elin Magnusdottir, you have been accused of…” while the magistrate enumerated her supposed crimes, some of which had been added to the list she noticed, Elin looked out over the crowd. Knowing she was about to leave this place forever made everything looked so small, the square, the guildhall, even some market stalls she could see on the main road. This little village was no longer to be her whole world. The idea excited her, all her life she’d greedily listened for tales from travelers who came through her father’s shop. Her father was the only person here she would miss. She must try to see him again once Loki took her, she hoped fervently that it would be possible. Doubtless he would hear about what happened when the hunting party returned. How long would he go unaware?

“She refuses to confess!” shouted the Father Halden, startling her. Magistrate Ulfred must have asked her for a confession in front of the crowd. She didn’t know what to say.

“Witch, what do you have to say, after your night in the cells?” asked the magistrate, clearly unaware that her ordeal hadn’t been as frightening as he’d thought. Did he know about the judge’s midnight visit? Did the priest? She looked over the men on the stage, the other three looked self-satisfied, but Nils Jornson did not. He must not have said anything about what had happened the night before. Elin found couldn’t blame him for that, it had taken her a few hours of soul searching to come to terms with Loki’s existence, let alone his offers. Perhaps he’d woken this morning the worse for the ale and convinced himself it hadn’t really happened.

“Answer me!” shouted the magistrate, startling her again. “Do you confess to your crimes?”

“My answer is that I ask you to wait for my father to return. He has a right to see what’s being done to me,” she said, angrily, hoping to appeal to the crowd. She heard some murmurs of agreement. There was movement near the front and a woman she knew to be a customer of her father’s shop came forward. Elin remembered she’d helped to find a balm for her last summer when her little boy was stung by several bees.

“The girl is right!,” she shouted. “Magnus Larson has a right to see this! Can it not wait-?” she started but was cut off.

“Silence, wench! Witches must be dealt with immediately,” scolded the priest. “Or have you helped her in her crimes?” Elin rolled her eyes. It was a low thing to do but predictable. The whole town would now know that he threatened to start an hysteria if anyone spoke out for her. As the woman shrunk back into the crowd, he turned back to Elin.

“You have been seen for years in the wilds, above the town, gathering herbs and reading a book-” the priest accused.

“I’ve told you, I gather herbs for my father’s shop,” said Elin, irritably.

“That is not your place! A woman should be at home caring for a family,” he continued.

“So a man may gather herbs but not me? My father doesn’t have enough time. What difference does it make?”

“Do you question the roles God has decreed for your sex?” spluttered Father Halden.

“Yes!” she said, viciously. With Loki on her side, she had nothing to lose.

“You see?” shouted the Father Halden to the crowd. “She is an unnatural woman! What we do today is a fight for the soul of the village! Her evil will spread if she is not burned!”

While the crowd jeered and cheered depending upon their persuasion Father Halden pushed Elin to her knees. It was difficult to keep her balance in the chains and she didn’t know what was in store.

“Bring the blade,” said magistrate Ulfred to the bailiff. He came forward and handed a sharp knife to the magistrate. Elin’s eyes widened at the sight. Loki had promised her she would come to no harm but she still hadn’t seen him anywhere. For the first time she was afraid.

The magistrate suddenly yanked at the length of Elin’s long hair, surprising her. There was a collective gasp from the crowd as he began shearing her in blunt, ugly chunks. Elin was furious and breathing hard trying to fight back tears of humiliation. The bailiff came forward to hold her still as she fought. She didn’t like to think of herself as vain, she knew she shouldn’t care but knowing that didn’t make it any easier to see the look of glee on Lisbeta Nilsdottir’s face.

When he had finished there was a heap of hair clippings surrounding Elin as she knelt on the stage and she finally felt naked in the thin shift.

Father Halden approached and began to address the crowd again. “This unnatural harlot is now humbled, she will be further humbled by examination for witches marks!”

This was what Elin had been dreading. Father Halden now had a chance to get his pudgy hands on her body and show her to the whole crowd. It seemed like perhaps a third of them were still skeptical but the shouts and jeers of the others were drowning them out. Father Halden came nearer with a poised hand and she began inching back as best she could but the bailiff was holding her still.

“Be still, witch! I am doing God's work!"

"Which god's work?" said a clear, curious voice near the front of the crowd. There was movement, people were stepping aside for a tall man dressed in black, his clothes were typical but he was much cleaner than most. The priest was shocked and the crowd too. The mere question was blasphemy.

But it was music to Elin’s ears. Loki had come and her relief was palpable. He even gave her a wink as he approached the stage.

"The only God!” shouted Father Halden at the man. “This is a child of God, tempted by Satan and turned to his side. He will have her soul to punish!"

"You’re wrong about that,” said Loki, stopping in the space below the stage. The crowd gasped and many backed away even further. He continued, “This woman is a worshipper of the old gods, she is to be protected, not punished.”

“Pagan, heretic idolatry! You hear what he said?” he shouted to the crowd. “This is the proof, witches and heathens are everywhere! He is her ally!”

“You will release this innocent woman,” said Loki loudly but calmly. Many people in the crowd were starting to get nervous and the judges too. Nils Jornson was shaking and staring at Loki, unwavering.

“This is outrageous!” shouted the priest. “Who are you to demand the release of this evil harlot of Satan? I have a duty to God to send her foul soul to Him for judgment. You will not stop me. I answer to a higher power!”

“I am a higher power,” spat Loki. “I’m the highest power you’re ever going to meet,” he said, giving the priest a disdainful once over. “All I see is a man, and not much of one. If your god wants her soul he is perfectly welcome to come fight me for her,” Loki smirked. “Call upon him, I am willing to wait...Within reason."

“God does not concern himself with malcontents like you! I am His representative on earth! My decree is His decree!"

"Then I must fight you? Hmm,” said Loki, disappointedly. “A little beneath my dignity I think."

There were a few stifled laughs in the crowd and Elin cracked a smile.

“Silence!” shouted Magistrate Ulfred. “Sir, you will stand aside and let us do our duty to the Lord and to the law. You are a stranger here but I will have you arrested and tried too if I must. We intend to execute this witch today-”

“How?” asked Loki, skeptically. Before the magistrate could answer Loki cut him off. His voice was angry now and he radiated authority as he said, "If you try to drown her, I will freeze the sea! If you try to burn her, I will freeze the flames!"

“Who-“

“I told you, this woman worships older gods,” he announced at last. “And I happen to be one of them.”


	5. Chapter 5

The crowd gasped and now whispering and fear rolled through it in waves. Loki began to walk slowly up the steps to the stage, and with each step he climbed a golden light swirled around him starting at his feet, changing soft shoes to thick, black boots and greaves, revealing strong leather and metal plates of armor as it moved up his legs and chest. When he reached the top, the aura completed itself, and Loki looked out over the crowd now wearing his golden, horned battle helm. He knew how terrifying he must look to these peasants. The magistrates had a little more learning among them but they wouldn’t hold out for long. Jornson was already quaking. 

The crowd was silent now, rooted in place by their awe as if he had nailed their feet to the ground, though at this point, Elin didn’t doubt that he might have. 

“I assume you were expecting a deity to have a long white beard?” he asked. No one dared to respond. But he had a more immediate concern, turning to Elin and the bailiff who was still holding her, hard now as his fists clenched in fear, he said, “Take your hands off her or you’ll lose them.”

The bailiff let her go and jumped back, going as far to the back of the stage as possible under Loki’s cold gaze. 

“This court wished to punish Elin Magnusdottir for her intelligence, her curiosity; these are crimes to your god?” he asked the judges. “They are not crimes to me!” he announced to the audience. “It is my turn to punish.” 

“Magistrate Ulfred,” said Loki decisively. Ulfred attempted to squeeze himself back into his chair as if he could disappear through the back of it but there was no hope. “You seemed very concerned with getting the truth from this young lady when you were torturing her in your dungeon.” The murmuring of the crowd started again quietly, they had not known until now what Elin had gone through. Loki continued, “I suggest however that the truth doesn’t mean a thing to you. I have a certain sympathy for that, I am the God of Lies, after all …which is why this is going to be fun for me.” 

He smiled deviously and made a vague gesture at Ulfred. At first it didn’t seem like anything had happened but then the magistrate tried to speak, presumably to ask what he’d done. No sound came out, startling Ulfred, the crowd, and even Elin.

“Don’t bother. If you want to talk now, it has to be in lies,” Loki told him with a glint in his eye. 

The crowd gasped but also laughed. The look on Ulfred’s face was all confusion, the implications of what Loki had done were occurring to him rapidly and showing on his face. He was trapped in a complex verbal prison, doomed to being misunderstood, unable to explain what he wanted, frustrated in his every desire. People were jeering now and it was clear a lot of them thought he deserved it. Ulfred had been in power for a long time, he had likely denied a lot of these people their requests. As the laughter lessened Loki began to pace the stage again.

“Magistrate Soren,” Loki said sighed, approaching him. “When this woman was brought to you for judgment yesterday you didn’t really believe the accusations against her, did you?” Soren tried to agree, clearly hoping to be spared but Loki didn’t let him get a word out. “Still, you just let it happen.” Loki reached out to him and grasped his hands. “You took a rather hands off approach. If that is how you conduct yourself in life…I guess you won’t be needing these.” 

Loki twisted his arms suddenly and Soren let out a cry of surprise. There hadn’t appeared to be any pain, and there was no blood, but Loki turned to show the crowd the magistrate’s severed hands and then vanished them into thin air. Soren screamed and stared at the stumps of his arms. They appeared to be sealed over with new skin. The crowd clamored and several people joined his screaming but a glare from Loki stopped them quickly. He waited a moment then began his little trial again. 

He addressed both the magistrates. “You let yourselves be convinced by that vain girl very easily,” he said. “Or did her father convince you?”

This was it, Jornson was shaking violently now. Loki stepped up to him as he cowered even further. “I offered you a chance to recant. What did I promise you? Pain and embarrassment?” Loki paced the stage, as if trying to think of a suitable punishment. “Did you mean to teach her a lesson about her place? Or merely satisfy your lust when you entered her cell last night?” There were gasps from the crowd and murmuring started up again and Loki let it build. 

Finally he said, “There’s only one fitting punishment for attempted rape.” There was outrage being expressed in the crowd now, anger on Elin’s behalf. At least on this point, Loki seemed to have won some of them over.

He raised a hand out, palm down toward Jornson who was hunched low and had shut his eyes in fear, he was shaking his head in denial. Loki gave a laugh that conveyed how pathetic a site Jornson made. He made a slashing motion and Jornson began to cry openly. “I doubt you really knew how to use it anyway,” said Loki. 

Turning back to the crowd he said, “This is a sad little village. Ruled over by sad, little men.” Loki glanced at the whimpering judges. “But you weren’t alone.”

His eyes searched the crowd for a moment and he spotted his quarry. The section of the crowd backed away, especially a terrified young woman and her three friends. They all turned to run but Loki magically froze them in their tracks. “Did you think I’d forgotten about you?” 

The blood drained from Lisbeta’s face and she started to stammer some excuse but Loki manipulated her friends in his mind; they turned on her with glassy eyes and grasped her by the arms, marching her back to the foot of the stage. Invisibly pinned to the spot, Lisbeta could do nothing but stare at Loki in fear. Elin watched fascinated, she could still hear Jornson whimpering behind her. 

“You accused this woman of witchcraft because she was more desirable than you. Because someone wanted her and not you?” he said in a solicitous voice of mocking pity. But then he turned cruel and said, “Who wouldn’t? You’re nothing but a spoiled, frivolous, empty headed hussy!”

The crowd was torn, some snickered and a brave few openly laughed but most just watched with curiosity. By now the rumor would have spread about what had happened at the feast, even if they hadn’t noticed it that night, they would know by now. Elin couldn’t help being a little pleased. Loki let the din settle and then continued. “Or should I say, _bare_ headed?”

Lisbeta’s eyes squinted with worried confusion but as Loki’s vicious smile grew wider so did her eyes. He made a slashing gestured with one hand and this time about half of the crowd did erupt into laughter, cheers and applause. Elin knew what had happened instantly, Lisbeta’s beautiful hair was now missing; she had been subjected to the same uneven, hideous cut that Elin had been by the magistrate. But that wasn’t the best part, those long blond locks now draped around Elin’s own shoulders, she’d felt their weight immediately. Loki had swapped them!

Ignoring the now screaming and crying Lisbeta and leaving her to the care of her admirers whom he’d released, Loki made his way to Elin at last. He looked her up and down and smiled at her kindly. “This poor girl. You’ve treated her most unkindly,” said Loki to Father Halden who was shaking but still standing his ground behind Elin. “You would dress such a beauty in rags?” 

“I will dress her in flames!” yelled Father Halden, regaining his courage. There was a pause while Loki thought. His smile grew.

“Good idea,” he announced unexpectedly. With one more flick of the wrist Elin appeared to burst into flames, though she didn’t feel anything but a breeze. The flames quickly died back and swirled and licked themselves around her, coalescing to form a beautiful dress so that when they finally died, she was armored in the style of a goddess in flowing bronze with runes etched into the molded leather plates of armor.

Father Halden had finally given up, he had backed away from Elin and was now headed for the steps but predictably, Loki stopped him, anchoring him invisibly with one foot dangling over the step so that he wobbled awkwardly. 

“You might be the worst of all, peddling fantasies to these ignorant people. And not even good ones. Don’t your people suffer enough? Your god is so tame and boring. You should give them some glamor, some amusement like we do! Distract them for their dull lives, don’t you think that would be better? Sorry, that was cruel, you don’t think.”

“You are a heathen! You have no power over me!” shouted Father Halden. “God will protect me!”

“Let’s find out,” said Loki with a vicious smile. “They say your god dwells in the sky; I’m afraid I haven’t met him there. Perhaps you’ll have better luck.”

The priest gaped and struggled to find something to say in the face of Loki’s devious expression. 

“Struck dumb?” he mocked. “Not yet.” He made a final sweeping gesture toward the sky and the Father Halden was launched into the air like an arrow, his screams faded as he shrunk from view. There was gasping and then silence, as if everyone was waiting for him to plunge to his death. 

He did not return and the commotion it caused the longer it went on was a dull roar by the time the sound of a small crowd walking toward the square interrupted it. Elin turned to look and her heart jumped in her chest when she saw it was her father and several members of the hunting party. Magnus spotted her immediately and started running toward the stage. 

Loki turned to her and grasped her arm as she started forward to go meet him. “You remember our bargain?” He warned subtly. 

She hesitated but said, “Yes.” Loki let her go and she went to her father who had reached the top of the stage. 

“Elin!” he exclaimed, hugging her to him tightly. “What has happened here? The messenger said you’d been accused of witchcraft!”

“Yes, but it isn’t true,” she said quickly.

“Well I know that!” he said, exasperation evident in his voice.

“Listen to me, they tortured me. Lisbeta caused it all.” 

“But this crowd, they’re hysterical!”

“It's been quite a spectacle! They were going to burn me, this was supposed to be a trial but they had already decided. He saved me,” she explained, turning in his grasp and looking to Loki who was watching cautiously.

“Who-” her father started.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she sighed tiredly. ”We made a deal. I have to go with him.”

“Why?”

“I can’t explain. Don’t worry about me papa, he’ll protect me. I’ll see you again, I don’t know when but I promise,” she assured him. None of this assuaged her father of course. He held her tighter but she disengaged and nodded to him trying to make sure he knew it was her choice. Magnus helplessly watched her return to Loki’s side with confusion and concern.

By now the crowd had calmed down and was watching again. Loki draped an arm around Elin’s waist and announced, “We have to go now. This beautiful woman has promised to worship me with her body and as you can imagine, I’m keen to get started.”

With that he left them not sure whether to gasp or laugh. As they looked on, Elin and Loki vanished into a golden light, seemingly forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got long. Longer than I'd expected. I decided to post the first half and make the second a sixth chapter which will be up soon. I hope you enjoy it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried so hard but I couldn't manage to write this to be M-rated, or what I think of as M-rated, so I have raised the rating to E. If you have an opinion about whether that was necessary, let me know in the comments, I'd be interested to get some points of view on that.
> 
> Thank you for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! I hope you enjoy the conclusion.

When the world stopped spinning, Elin felt her feet hit a hard floor. She found herself in a large room with a high stone ceiling. Though her head was still reeling, she saw shelves of books, green tapestries and strange objects lining the walls. Loki led her to a large, soft bed and sat her down. She breathed in a few times, allowing her heart to slow. Loki stepped away for a moment and came back with a cup of water which she drank gratefully. He silently watched her, studying her face and glancing over her body.

She felt awkward under his gaze. They were finally alone, no crowd, no jailers, no other prisoners. Her obligation suddenly seemed real for the first time and she was also mindful of what he’d said as they’d left the stage. She raised her eyes to him, swallowed her fear and said, “You can do it now, if you want.” His response was to raise a brow. “You held up your end of the deal so…” she drifted off.

“We have plenty of time for that,” he replied. He thought a moment then smiled and casually said, “Besides, you’ve had a rough few days, I think I’d rather ravish you when you’re well rested.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t think I could sleep right now though, that was so exciting, I can’t stop my thoughts.”

“It was enjoyable,” Loki agreed with a grin. “You’ll calm down. Right now let’s get you a decent meal and some rest.”

Elin perked up, she was starving having been in jail and on trial without a bite to eat since yesterday morning.

"I know you’ve just been through a terrible ordeal to do with it but would you like to see some more real witchcraft?" 

“Sure,” she said, unperturbed.

Loki held out one palm and a green and gold mist formed, it thickened until she couldn’t see through it and then abruptly vanished, leaving a silver plate full of meats, cheese, fruit and bread. Loki smiled as she exclaimed.

“That’s a great trick!” she said taking the plate as Loki handed it to her. She began to eat and Loki watched her, glad to see her enjoying it. She was thin and he knew the village had been in lean times for several months.

Apparently Elin’s mind was full of happier thoughts. She laughed and said, “I can’t believe you took all of Lisbeta’s hair!”

“It’s a bit of a specialty of mine,” Loki admitted. “It’ll grow back.”

“And her father!”

“As I said, it’ll grow back.”

Elin’s jaw dropped.

“Slowly. With every favor or good turn he does any woman excepting his repulsive daughter,” he explained. “In fact, all of them can redeem their missing parts, when they learn their lessons. Even Father Halden, he’ll land eventually, and when he does, he’ll find it hard to preach and scold with no voice.”

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, happily. She considered and then said, “I feel kind of mean…I didn’t really think about what you might do to them. Maybe I assumed you would kill them.”

“It’s better than having killed them,” said Loki. “They’ll have to live with the humiliation every day for the rest of their lives. And they’re terrified I’ll come back with worse if they accuse anyone ever again.”

“They could move away,” she reasoned, biting into an apple and rolling her eyes in delight at its taste.

“Not with the invisible perimeter I put around the village that only reacts to the five of them.”

“You are devious,” she said, a little bit in awe.

“My darling, I am the god of devious,” he grinned.

She considered and said, “You didn’t punish Karl Andersson.”

“You’d already turned him down, I think that was punishment enough,” said Loki. “Did you want to see him punished?” he asked, curiously.

Elin chewed some bread and thought a moment before saying, “No. I guess not. I didn’t hate him, I wasn’t interested in him, but that’s not the same."

“No, indifference hurts much more,” he said.

Elin finished her meal and Loki took the plate away. She arranged herself on the bed and lay back, sinking into the down filled mattress. She watched Loki approach again. He sat on the edge of the bed and she examined his appearance. He’d removed his helmet but his clothes were still outlandish, green and black and leather and metal.

"When you first came to me, you didn’t hide that you were a god, but you weren't wearing that, why not?" she asked.

"I didn't want to frighten you. I did want to frighten them," he said.

“But when the judge…”

"I like to give them a chance to do the right thing before revealing who I am and what I can do. If at the bottom of their hearts they are decent people, I may be inclined to spare them," he explained.

Elin gave him a skeptical look and asked, "Does that happen a lot?"

"Not in the last few centuries."

"So this is what you do? You go around saving girls from being burned at the stake?"

"Only the pretty ones," he said, slyly. "No. Only the ones who believe."

They sat silently for a while before Elin spoke.

"I lied to you before. I did believe,” she said, her eyes unfocused, staring into the past. “I lay there soaking wet, so hungry I wanted to die too. I wanted her to be feasting in Valhalla, there had to be a Valhalla."

"There is," he assured her, solemnly. "And I knew you lied. I knew because that's what I'm the god of. I'm not angry with you. I knew you were only ever lying to yourself. You aren't in a thought prison anymore. Here with me, you're free from Father Halden's hallucinations. And just because I'm real doesn't mean his god is too."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"No, but I am sure that I've never run into him in over a thousand years of going around taking his name in vain and challenging him to duels. If he does exist, it doesn't seem like he's very interested in saving or punishing his followers," Loki said pragmatically.

"But you are?"

"I'm interested in rewarding them," he leered. She blushed. "Was I right in thinking you are untouched?" he asked gently.

She nodded. "But you must have known that."

"I haven't been watching you every moment of your life. You deserve your privacy. And not to be callous but I have better things to do."

"Oh, of course," she said, feeling silly, her eyes focused on her folded hands.

He leaned over her and reached up, lifting her chin with one long finger and looked over her uncertain expression. "I also like to leave something to the imagination," he murmured. “The anticipation is part of the pleasure and…” he trailed off, sitting up again. “But I can show you that later.”

“You know, I’m really not that tired,” said Elin, a little breathless now, watching his face.

“How do you know you’re not that tired?” he asked, a sly edge in his voice.

“What do you mean? I think I would know.”

“You don’t know how much energy you’re about to need,” he replied, turning his body toward her and adjusting one leg further onto the bed.

“Oh, right,” she said, turning beet red.

“You have a lot to learn,” he said, not unkindly. “Luckily, you like to.”

She nodded quickly, more confident now.

“Not everyone does,” he continued. “And judging by your village, and sadly many others I’ve seen, not everyone approves of a woman who likes to learn. I like a woman who wants to learn, it means she’s open minded…not to say open legged.” He leered at her as her face grew warmer. He braced himself with one hand by her legs and deliberately loomed a little. “How much do you know?” he murmured.

“Not much I guess,” she said, aware of her shallow breathing.

“But you’re curious. Allow me to teach you?” Her only answer was a wide eyed nod. “Excellent.”

After saying this, Loki’s looming became an advance. He crawled up the bed over her and Elin’s breath quickened as she watched, captivated. He hovered for a moment, their bodies aligned and she was surprised when he shifted to the side and lay next to her, propping himself up on his elbow. But then he started to change, the golden light that had changed his clothes as he mounted the stage now disrobed him seamlessly, head to foot.

He grinned when she jerked her head to look away, flustered, grasping for something to say. “This is for your edification,” he reminded her, smiling. “You’re never going to learn anything if you don’t look at me.”

Elin turned her gaze on him, it was clear that Loki was shameless about nudity. He had every reason to be, his was an excellent form, trim but well-muscled, he was pale and it suited him. He preened while she admired him. There were a few scars here and there and before she realized it, Elin had reached toward one but stopped herself, hand poised in the air by his chest. He smiled in silent permission. She took a deep breath and gently traced it with her finger.

“That one is bloody story, best left for another time,” said Loki. He was in no rush but didn’t want distractions either. “Carry on,” he said suggestively, “Feel me.”

In truth, Elin was eager to explore a man’s body and Loki’s eyes were inviting her. She started with his shoulders, sweeping a lock of his rich, black hair out of her way. They were solid, it occurred to her to wonder how heavy he might be, something she hadn’t really thought about when they were standing up, or just talking in her cell.

She carried on in her exploration, stroking down his chest and past his tight nipples, her eyes wandered down below his waist, his arousal was impossible to ignore, it seemed obscene and she focused on his chest in front of her instead. Elin could feel the heat in her face and she knew he was watching her.

Loki lifted her chin again and she lay there, fidgeting under his gaze until he decided to release her. “My turn,” he whispered. He ran his fingers through her hair, cradled her cheek and stroked her neck, all the while the tingling in Elin’s skin was increasing. When his hands drifted down to her shoulders he paused.

“I have to say, I’m proud of my craftsmanship, but it’s time for this to come off,” said Loki, glancing down at her coppery dress.

“Oh,” she whined. “It’s so pretty, I wanted to keep it.”

“I’ll only send it across the room,” he said. She raised an eyebrow in question.

He waved vaguely and pointed toward a chair and she looked up, surprised to see the dress now draped over the back of it, the plates of armor neatly stacked on the seat. She was also surprised to find she was naked in the same instant, exposed to his eyes. She quickly covered herself with her arms and hands as best she could but Loki just chortled.

“There’s no need for that,” he said, gently prizing her arms away from her body and placing them so that he could see her properly. She was still embarrassed, it was clear. He noticed her averting her eyes toward the ceiling rather than looking at him, her cheeks still glowing. This would not do, active participation, that was what he wanted. He considered for a moment, his fingers softly stroking her sternum.

The last thing she needed was to be pinned down, he thought, remembering last night when he’d interrupted the judge in her cell. He let her squirm for a bit, examining her form closely. She was thin as he’d noticed before, not so thin that her ribs showed but her breasts were underdeveloped. She’d known hunger, something he resolved to fix during her time with him. He would have to be careful with her, she wouldn’t be able to take his weight yet. It gave him an idea.

“Those cretans in your village know nothing about how to please a woman...” he told her. “They would take you like a beast. Whereas I…” She drew a sharp breath as she waited for him to continue. “I want _you_ to start.”

Elin tried to speak but found she didn’t know what to say. He smiled at her confusion and then unexpectedly he sat up and leaned back against the ornate headboard. With a glance, he invited her to straddle him.

Elin took a deep breath, trying to overcome years of modesty and the expectation of having to let her future husband do what _he_ wanted, not the other way around. She was nervous about sitting on Loki's lap, especially with his manhood jutting out, complicating things. And she was uncertain about how to proceed when she got there. Loki sensed her reticence.

“I’ll show you,” he assured her. Then he snorted and added, “And you’re not going to hurt me.”

Elin smiled, abashed. Slowly sitting up, she turned, and sort of stepped with one knee over him and hovered there. Loki took her hands and placed them on his shoulders and drew her closer to him, holding her with one firm arm around her back.

“Stay just like that, I’m going to make sure you’re ready,” he breathed into her ear. Before she could process what he meant, Loki had placed one large hand on her chest and dragged it down her front and between her legs. Immediately she felt a jolt run through her. Her fingers clamped down on his skin and he laughed lightly, dipping his head to kiss her breasts. He continued to toy with her, sliding one finger inside her. It was strange but not uncomfortable. His thumb began to work her from the outside and it felt glorious. With the warmth and strength of his hand on her Elin felt an ache building in her she’d never known before.

When his fingers left her and he brought them up to steady her neck she could feel their dampness.

When she gasped he kissed her, stealing her breath and making her light headed. “Slowly now,” he whispered. “It won’t hurt much if you do it slow. Grasp me, guide me in.”

Elin nodded and he drew her forward so their foreheads pressed together. She was still shy about it, he could tell. But he didn’t try to guide her hand. It rested on his hip while he kneaded the muscles of her back in encouragement. Slowly she reached down and found that his shaft was rigid but the skin was soft and smoother than she’d expected. She positioned him at her entrance and hesitated.

“Just sink down,” he said, softly. “Not too much, take your time.”

She lowered herself as Loki murmured soothingly into her ear. Immediately she felt the thickness of him, it filled her far more than his finger had and the stretch made her shiver. Loki grasped her to him more tightly and as she went lower, she could hear his hums of pleasure. It was exciting, feeling that vibration in his chest pressed up against hers.

The stretching increased as she went and when it felt a bit painful she whimpered and he held her still. “This is the hard part,” he began.

But Elin cut him off, “I know. Fast?”

“Yes, a pinch and it’s done,” he assured her. She didn’t really believe him but she steeled herself and plunged down harder than before. It was more than a pinch, it was sharp and there was burning now, it wasn’t the worst pain she’d ever felt, but it wasn’t easy. And Loki wasn’t a small man.

Once she was settled on his lap, she sat still for some time, getting used to the feeling. Loki held her and nuzzled her neck. The burn lessened as she relaxed. She began to notice the rest of her body again. Every sensation was heightened, the hot hand on her bare back, the brush of his lips as he nibbled along her throat, made her feel alive.

“Are you well?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, nodding quickly.

“Good,” he said, sliding his hands down her body and resting them on her hips. “Easiest to start in circles,” he said, gently pushing and pulling her to demonstrate. It felt good despite the dull ache. He eased her into a slow rhythm and then let her take over, focusing on tipping her head to the side and bathing her shoulder with open-mouthed kisses.

After a while of this, Elin discovered that grinding into him felt even better, and it elicited little moans from Loki. He stopped his kisses briefly to say, “That’s perfect. Faster.” His voice was thin and urgent, and she tittered with pleasure at being able to make him feel this way. She increased her pace and he began to pump up into her. The heat of their actions was growing and Elin could feel the sweat on his back as she clung to him. Her breath was coming in short bursts and her legs ached. Still she wouldn’t have stopped, it was just too good. Her head drooped to rest on his shoulder.

Loki paused, raising her jaw with one hand, the other still gripped her left thigh. “Tired now?” he leered at her. Her flushed face probably couldn’t have gotten any redder than it already was. She nodded.

“But I don’t want to stop,” she said desperately.

“Don’t worry about that,” he laughed. “Hold on.” He waited for her to wrap her arms around his torso and then flipped them. The speed startled her and as her back hit the soft surface of the bed, Elin felt for the first time how powerful his body was. He began to thrust again, still at a slow, steady pace, and she realized he could easily be much rougher with her if he wanted to, but she wasn’t as scared of the idea as she probably should be.

For the first time, she reached up to pull his head down to her level, she kissed him, hard, on the lips. He took it as a signal to go faster. As he thrust harder and rolled his hips into hers, she had to wrap her legs around him to keep him in the perfect spot, the spot that produced such bliss. By now she had realized that the moaning wasn’t all Loki’s.

He braced himself on one arm so as not to put his whole weight on her and slipped one had between them. Elin groaned when she felt him tease the folds between her legs. The pleasure was building in her and her whole body was so tense, her arms clutched at his shoulders. Then Loki pushed her a little harder, a little faster and squeezed and kneaded her in just the right way and the tension broke, after a few seconds of strange calm, she felt her inner muscles clamp around him. He moaned and kept pumping as her spasms continued, tapering off as the tension drained out of her. With a final hard thrust Loki released into her, groaning and resting his forehead on her chest for a moment, careful not to collapse on top of her.

Elin lay there, stroking his hair, reflecting on the full delight she had felt a few moments ago and waiting for her racing pulse to slow. Loki looked up at her, he was breathing heavily but he was smiling. He reached up and kissed her lips gently. She peered at him, glancing down to where they were still joined.

“Best done slowly,” he said. “You’re going to be very sensitive right now.”

He was right, he raised himself off and as he gradually slipped out she felt every inch. He lay down next to her again, his body was hot and slick next to hers but she didn’t mind.

“What do you think? Was it worth it for letting me save your life?”

“Oh my God, yes,” she said, still a little breathless.

“I am your god now,” he said “Don’t forget.”

She nodded and examined his face, his lip bore a little quirk that made her think he might be joking. “So what are your commandments?” she asked. Her body was still buzzing and she was feeling daring.

He grinned, glad she was catching on. “Eat, drink, and be merry,” he quoted. “The rest we’ll figure out as we go along.” He thought for a moment and then said firmly, “And never call yourself a ‘child of god’ again. You’re not my child, you’re my lover.”

She nodded and then her face fell. “Oh no! I forgot about children!” she exclaimed. “What if-”

He cut her off before she could finish. “Do not worry, we shall not be procreating. It’s not that I would mind adding to the flock of loyal worshippers but any more demi-gods I can live without.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank you.” Loki was looking at her, trying to gauge her expression, so she added, “It isn’t that I don’t like children, I’m just not ready to be a mother yet.”

“I understand,” he said patiently. “When you are, tell me. I can’t keep you forever and I don’t want you to be unhappy. I will find you a place to live where you can meet a man you’ll _want_ to marry.” He paused before carrying on. “That man will not be me.” His eyes asked for her to confirm she understood.

“I understand,” she said, but she couldn’t help her heart sinking a little, he’d saved her life and then shown her such care and pleasure, it would be hard to let that go.

As she lay there in contentment, Elin nearly fell asleep before something occurred to her.

“Did you know my father was on his way back?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Loki. “Why do you think I was spending so much time pontificating?”

“I assumed you liked the sound of your own voice,” she said, daring again.

“Well, that too,” he smirked.

“Will I be able to keep my promise to him? Will you let me see him again?” she asked seriously.

“If you wish to. When I set you up in a town, you can send for him or if need be I can find him…Once I’ve had my fill of you,” he finished with a warning. “You’ve got a lot more to learn.”

His growl set her body on edge, she couldn’t wait to get started.


End file.
